dolorosa_12: (bluebells)
I feel as if the weekend has somewhat run away from me, but, looking back, I do seem to have got a lot done.

Saturday was gloriously sunny, so once I returned from the gym, I spent quite a bit of the afternoon sitting out on the deck, finishing my book — Bread and War (Felicity Spector) — under the pear and cherry trees. The book is basically Spector travelling around Ukraine, eating lots of delicious food, served to her by remarkable people working in incredibly difficult circumstances ) Don't read this book when hungry, or you will find yourself craving vast piles of food!

On Saturday night, I laid the coffee table with lots of food on which to graze, and Matthias and I watched Eurovision. As I said previously, all our local friends who used to join us for watch parties have moved away, so it was just the two of us, although I had additional company in the form of the group chat of my friends from the Philip Pullman fan forum. Those of us taking part in the conversation were a true pan-European Eurovision crowd: a Welsh person in south Wales, a British person living in Switzerland (but in Geneva, not watching from the audience in Basel), a Finnish person in Helsinki, and two Australians living in England. We all universally agreed that the intermission mashup Käärijä/Baby Lasagne song was better than every competing song, and would have voted for it if we could!

Today, after a slow start, Matthias and I spontaneously decided to do a 5km circular walk, which includes the park by the cathedral, a long stretch by the river (where we saw vast numbers of water birds, and a herd of cows lying placidly in the grass), and then a winding journey through the suburban streets of the town. This at least helped me feel that I'd done some movement for the day.

After our return, I curled up in the living room and read my way through the [community profile] once_upon_fic collection. I didn't think I had the time to participate in this exchange this year, but I've enjoyed reading the contributions of others. I'll stick a few recs behind a cut.

Recs here )

I'll leave you with one final link: the rather cool news that the children's picture book written by one of my undergraduate friends from Australia has been selected for the Australian National Simultaneous Storytelling initiative, which is pretty amazing.
dolorosa_12: (sister finland)
This week's open thread takes a prompt suggested by [personal profile] author_by_night a few posts back, when I was asking people to suggest topics.

It is: talk about an awkward trip.

My answer )

What about you?
dolorosa_12: (winter pine branches)
I can feel myself tumbling unstoppably towards a really bad downswing of the mood, but there's still swimming, and cooking, and coffee, and chatting with the people in the bakery down the road, and wandering along the river, and I suppose that will have to be enough. Above all things, I suppose, there are books.

I've read three new-to-me books since last week:

Here they are behind the cut )

Snowflake Challenge promotional banner featuring an image of a fir bough with a white ball ornament and a glass vial. Text: Snowflake Challenge January 1-31.

Onward to [community profile] snowflake_challenge: Make a list of fannish and/or creative resources.

I was going to link to the usual fandom resources I always highlight on these things — [community profile] fandomcalendar for keeping track of exchanges and other events, [community profile] recthething for an active recs community, [community profile] fffriday for a comm focused on f/f relationships in fiction, and so on, but then I had another idea. One of my favourite works of fiction of all time is Ada Palmer's Terra Ignota series, but I struggle to summarise coherently what it's all about in a way that both encompasses everything, and lets potential readers know what they're in for. Luckily for me, though, [personal profile] hamsterwoman has done a brilliant job of this in a recent post, which I thought I'd recommend here for anyone who is interested in checking out this exquisite series. There are even fanfic recs and icons!

Speaking of icons, that's another thing I thought I'd highlight here: I've recently seen a number of people asking about good sources of Dreamwidth icons, so I thought I'd list the main places I go for such things. There are two fairly active comms: [community profile] icons (fandom icons, but also stock icons for stuff like food, drinks, seasonal, holidays, flowers, colours etc), and [community profile] fandom_icons (mainly specific fandoms). I also know several people who are fairly active icon makers, and over the years I've ended up with a fair few icons by [personal profile] peaked, [personal profile] svgurl, and [personal profile] misbegotten, so you may be interested in looking at their icon posts as well.

Feel free to add your own icon-related suggestions in the comments!
dolorosa_12: (ocean)
After a 36-hour journey from door to door, involving an inevitable rail replacement bus, and a train full of drunk, singing football fans, I've returned from my trip to Australia, sleepy, restored, and a little bit melancholy. It was my first time back in five years, due to the pandemic, and it was a very packed schedule, filled with family events, various bits of long-postponed life admin, and lots of communing with the ocean. I was in Sydney for the most part, staying with my mum and sister #1 (who has moved back after five years in Melbourne), apart from five days in Woodend in rural Victoria with my dad, stepmother, and all my sisters.

I felt it would be easiest to summarise the trip under various subheadings.

Family and friends
  • Lots, and lots, and lots of family dinners in Sydney with various combinations of aunts — at Mum's place, at my aunt's place down the road, at cocktail bars and restaurants in the CBD, etc

  • A daytrip to have lunch with my dad's two sisters and their partners and one of my cousins in Thirroul, which is about an hour away on the train

  • Visiting [livejournal.com profile] anya_1984 and meeting her younger son, who had not been born the last time I was in Sydney

  • Easter weekend in Woodend — the first time all five of us sisters have ever been in the one place at the one time, in freezing temperatures, with the fire going nearly constantly, various dogs and cats slumbering on our laps, catching up with one of my cousins, meeting his new partner (who gamely came along to an Easter Sunday dinner hosted by one of my stepmother's brothers, with about forty people there, mainly her relatives, but also random people that my stepmother's mother had met at the pub and invited along, etc), chatting chaotically around firepits, eating too much food and drinking way too much wine

  • Cocktails and dinner with [livejournal.com profile] anya_1984, who has known me since we were twelve years old, plus a gang of people with whom we went to uni, which ended up being an oddly intense experience due to the passage of time, and everyone's various private griefs and struggles being aired

  • Getting the unexpected chance to see all of my cousins apart from the one who lives way out in Sydney's west and works irregular hours and the one who lives in South Korea and the one who had just gone on a trip to Spain the week before I arrived


  • Life admin
  • Sorting out various banking and superannuation stuff that inevitably accumulate if one is a migrant who has spent half her working life in one country and half in another

  • Going through all the books, documents, paper diaries, old high school report cards, boxes of photos, primary school artworks etc which I had been storing in my mum's flat since I left Australia in 2008, and finally throwing away the stuff that had survived five purge attempts since 2002. The remainder is in the process of being shipped over to the UK, now that we finally own our own house and live somewhere with an adequate amount of storage


  • Food
  • Just generally revelling in the fact that Australia is really, really, really good at food. I always say that the UK has improved massively in this regard since I first moved here, and that's true, but Australia really is in another league, and my mum lives in a part of Sydney that is particularly good in terms of cafes, bars and restaurants (and within easy reach of other parts of the city), so we ate very well

  • I ate a lot of fish and other seafood. The UK has good seafood, but it's generally different types of fish, and prepared differently, so it was good to sample all the stuff I can't easily eat in the northern hemisphere

  • Australia also generally has better East and Southeast Asian food, so I was keen to eat that at every opportunity — of which there were several

  • Two tasting menu dinners at high end restaurants — this one with Matthias, and this one with sister #1 as a birthday present for the past five years of birthdays

  • Cafe breakfasts. Just Sydney cafe breakfasts


  • All that land and all that water
  • Various walks and swims with Matthias around different bits of Sydney Harbour — catching the ferry to Manly and then walking from Shelly Beach up North Head, and returning to swim, walking from my mum's place to Barangaroo, walking from Nielsen Park along the harbour all the way home, with a swim midway, and shorter walks to any available body of water I could reach

  • Lots and lots of swimming at [instagram.com profile] andrewboycharltonsydney with my mum, and sometimes one of my aunts, with the smell of the cut grass on one side and the harbour on the other, watching the naval ships drift by, under the broad sweep of the sky


  • I read a lot of books during the plane trips there and back, but while I was in Australia I stuck to rereading my old childhood paperbacks, including Rain Stones and The Secret Beach by Jackie French (a short story collection and standalone novel collection respectively, both with French's usual focus on family history, memory, and the Australian landscape), Hannah's Winter by Kierin Meehan (preteen girl spends three months in rural Japan with an eccentric host family and — together with a couple of other kids — must solve a supernatural mystery quest), and Shadowdancers by Sally Odgers (a portal fantasy in which people from our world have doppelgangers in another, with whom traumatic experiences can force them to trade places — one of my very favourite books when I was a teenager, absolutely read to death, to the point that the paperback is extremely battered and had been dropped in the bath at least once).

    The trip itself was wonderful, but emotionally wrenching in weird and unexpected ways due to the passage of time, and the near constant reminder that migration and building a life overseas causes the space you occupy to close up behind you. I made that choice, and I don't regret it, but it is confronting to be reminded that life goes on without you in places and among people that once felt like home. It was my own choice, but it was a choice that was not without weight, and consequences.

    My Instagram — [instagram.com profile] ronnidolorosa offers a rather incomplete record of the trip, heavy on the sea and sky, since those were — apart from the people — the thing I missed most, and which are so, so different to the sea, and the sky in these northern parts of the world to which I transplanted myself.
    dolorosa_12: (Default)
    I think I have a new fandom, and that fandom is the Australian Electoral Commission, or, more specifically, its Twitter account.

    I loathe a lot of Australian politicians, my contempt for the country's current government knows no bounds, and I deplore the generally mercenary attitudes of Australian voters (elections tend to be lost due to fear of supposed tax increases, and won by the party which suburban voters believe will save them money in some way), but wow do I love our electoral system.

    A rigorously, zealously independent electoral commission at local, state and federal level, preferential voting (if you're not going to do proportional representation, this is a good alternative), and above all, compulsory voting which means that not only is voting easy, quick, and straightforward, the AEC goes out of its way to get ballots to Australians in the most remote and inaccessible of locations: basically if your 'democracy' doesn't have these things, it feels like a very watered-down example of democracy to me. (This should not be interpreted as me smugly placing blame for said watered-down democracies at the feet of their citizens and voters, obviously.)

    My love for all these things is directly proportional to how much the right-wingers in Australia detest them, and how obvious it is that they are unable to get rid of them precisely because these things exist and hinder them in doing so. (That said, we should never get too complacent; the fact that the right-wing government keeps making noises about getting rid of compulsory voting should be a massive wake up call to everyone. As an Australian immigrant in the UK, my current home country is an object lesson in the terrible consequences of voter complacency.)
    dolorosa_12: (le guin)
    Do you like fairytales, folktales, mythology, legends, or similar types of literature? Are you (like me), looking for a fic exchange that takes place in this half of the year? If so, you may be interested in [community profile] once_upon_fic. Nominations close next Sunday (this may be Monday for you if you live in an eastern part of the world), and there are further specific requirements for a fandom to be eligible, so do check out the comm for more details. The tagset looks great already, and I'm super excited about all the things I've nominated as well, and hope they get approved.

    This article interviewing 15 immigrant restaurant owners/chefs combines and celebrates two of my favourite things: immigration, and food. It made me feel a bit emotional, and it's also full of excellent recipes. And as a fellow foodie immigrant to Britain, I feel seen. Yotam Ottolenghi's introduction to the immigrants-and-food article is also worth a read.

    This lengthy rant about the woeful political 'leadership' of Scott Morrison was so cathartic to read:

    Our Prime Minister is unprepared habitually because he is uninterested in being prepared. He is a man capable only of feigning humanity, passive-aggressively and defensively, and only when pressed on whether he gives a shit about a particular something or not and the focus-grouped answer is yes, he does give a shit, so sincerely in fact he spoke to Jenny about it just the other night. He is a vortex of shirked responsibility, his tenure a policy wasteland and a bookkeeper’s nightmare. He leaves behind less a prime ministerial legacy and more a hole.

    Call the election, dickhead.


    Every so often, an article will cross my path that covers something so niche, so specific to a particular time and place — and so specific to a particular time and place when I was there and I remember exactly the thing being written about — that I'm astonished anyone considers it noteworthy, and delighted they did so. This article, about a particular subgenre of Australian music that is apparently called 'bloghouse', is about exactly such a niche topic. I saw it, I read it, and I remembered! All this music was happening at nightclubs just around the corner from where I lived with my mum and sister (and where my mum still lives) when I was an undergraduate in Sydney. I remember seeing it advertised with posters on lampposts and so on. Nightclubs really weren't my scene at that point in my life, but I loved that kind of music and listened to it all the time at the bakery where my sister and I worked on weekends, while running, and around the house. The article touches on something that I hadn't been aware of, which is that the popularity of this kind of music arose at exactly the same time that technology, and social media like MySpace enabled Australian musicians to punch above their weight in the global scene, leading to a brief, but interesting cultural phenomenon.

    I'll leave you with some new-to-me music, which fulfills the secondary function of reminding how much I utterly love Berlin.

    dolorosa_12: (amelie wondering)
    I was talking to my mother and sister via FaceTime this morning and Mum was telling me all about her radio programme this week (she's a radio broadcaster who does a programme which takes events that are making headlines and does a deep dive into the history behind them, interviewing historians, economists, commentators, activists, archivists etc). The progamme this week is all about studies into using psychodelic drugs to treat mental health conditions. After a while, Mum fell to reminiscing about the '70s, and my sister and I were sitting there in amusement at a number of anecdotes that began 'and that time [ex-boyfriend] and I were taking magic mushrooms/acid/etc'.

    I had the dual realisation that a) my parents had a way more adventurous youth than I did (I'd known about most of this stuff already, but it's not exactly something I think about actively) and b) if I wanted to obtain illicit drugs in the UK, I would have no idea who to ask, whereas I know at least twenty people in Canberra and Sydney I could ask, should I want to do so. My social circles in Australia are as equally filled with high achieving nerds as they are in the UK, so I'm not really sure how to explain the discrepancy. I should make it clear that I have zero desire to acquire illicit drugs, I just found the contrast amusing.

    *


    On a completely different note, the complicated Australian bureaucracy thing I was dealing with last week led me to another bizarre realisation. I remember when I met [instagram.com profile] lowercasename for the first time, he told me that his parents (who emigrated from Russia to Australia in the 1980s and spoke only Russian to each other, and him, at home) had left Russia before various technological things were invented, and as a result of being isolated from other Russian-speakers had no idea of the Russian names of such things. Therefore, his family basically invented their own Russian words for various pieces of software and commonplace computer hardware, and no other Russian speakers use the same terminology.

    My situation is slightly different. I lived in Australia long enough that I had a tax file number, did paid work and filed tax returns, and had to contribute towards the rent and bills of a shared house — but I did all this at a time when everything was entirely analog, and on paper. My wages were paid directly into my bank account, but I never had internet banking, I filed my tax returns on paper and got my tax refunds as cheques which I had to deposit physically in the bank, and when I needed to transfer rent money to my housemate I withdrew cash from my bank account and filled in a paper deposit slip and deposited the money in person at a branch of her bank. I existed entirely on paper.

    And of course, since I've lived and worked in the UK during the years when such things were increasingly done online, I know how to navigate all this stuff in a UK context, I know the UK terminology, and I am as close as it's possible to be to a 'digital native' ... in the UK, and its various pieces of bureaucracy. But in Australia, I have no idea! I don't even know the names for government web platforms, or technical terminology (someone over the phone was like 'you can pay it via BPay,' and I was like 'what's BPay?').

    It's as if I'm a time-traveller from an age of paper. It's not an insurmountable problem (I can eventually figure out most of this stuff via context or Google), but it is an oddly disorienting feeling.

    In Araluen

    Apr. 4th, 2021 11:44 am
    dolorosa_12: (matilda)
    Today we had a burst of sunshine, and Matthias and I took advantage of what is likely to be the only nice weather this week to go out walking. We wandered around the cathedral, and down by the river, soaking in the sunlight. All the trees and plants in our garden are about to burst into flower, or are already in bloom.

    The fourth day of the book meme ask for the following:

    4. A book with a worldbuilding detail that has stuck with you

    My answer )

    The other days )
    dolorosa_12: (keating!)
    I've spent the morning watching the ABC's coverage of the Western Australian state election. (I'm not from WA, but my family are all either political journalists, political staffers, or just rabid Australian politics watchers, so obsessively watching Australian political coverage is kind of mandatory for me).

    There are landslides ... and then there are landslides. (To decode this for non-Australians, the Liberal Party in Australia is the conservative right-wing party in Australia, the ALP is the Australian Labor Party, our centre-left party, and the NAT in the screenshot refers to the National Party, the conservative party that only stands in rural seats, and always contests elections as the junior partner in a coalition with the Liberals. So for the National Party to win more seats than the Liberals is basically unheard of.)

    A few links that have caught my eye over the past few days:

    Data visualisation of a survey done by Fansplaining about whether people in fandom prefer to read fic for fandoms with which they're familiar, or on the basis of tropes in fandoms that they haven't read/watched/etc. I found this really interesting, because it was basically a fifty-fifty split, with further data for each set of reading preferences. I fall solely in the 'only read fic for fandoms with which I am deeply familiar' (I don't even like reading fic for ongoing canons).

    Cut for discussion of the pandemic )

    Like many Australians who grew up in Canberra, holidays 'down the South Coast' of New South Wales were a huge part of my childhood, and the old bridge in Batemans Bay was an icon of those landscapes. Now that old bridge is being replaced, and the operators (whose job is to lift the bridge two times a day to allow ferries to pass through) are out of a job (although my impression is that they were on the verge of retirement). This is a delightful interview with one of those operators about his experiences.
    dolorosa_12: (latern)
    It was warm, it was sunny, the farmers market in the centre of town was flooded with far too many people, but I can't bring myself to get too worked up about it because I just feel so relaxed and happy. We flung open the curtains, and filled the house with flowers.

    I come bearing a few links.

    The more observant among you may have noticed that I no longer live in Cambridge. This is (sadly) a product of the ridiculous housing market in this part of the world. When Matthias and I decided we wanted to buy a house, we basically had the option of either living on the very outskirts of Cambridge in what would probably be a house needing a lot of work, and have to spend hours every day commuting by (slow, unreliable) bus into work, or moving to one of the surrounding villages on the trainline and buying a much nicer house that would not need to be gutted and renovated from the ground up. Add to that the fact that both of our workplaces are basically not going to return us to full-time work in the office even after the pandemic is over, and the decision was obvious. We moved to Ely, which is fifteen minutes away from Cambridge on the train. While I miss some things about living in Cambridge, it was definitely the right decision.

    All that by way of preamble to say that the house was finally in a presentable enough state for me to do a photo tour. I've posted three batches of photos over on Instagram at [instagram.com profile] ronnidolorosa. Batch one, batch two, batch three.

    Also via Instagram, a link to a wonderful photo essay (in a rather pretentious travel magazine) about the gorgeous ocean baths of Sydney. I miss the sea — and specifically the Sydney sea — so much!

    Via a convoluted sequence of links in Dreamwidth, I stumbled upon this Tumblr post, which argues something I've long been struggling to articulate — my frustration and discomfort with anti-intellectualism on the left. It comes from a different place to the right-wing equivalent, but it's just as misinformed and damaging. It being a Tumblr post, I find it a touch on the polemical side, but it summarises a lot of things I've long felt, and gave me a satisfying jolt of recognition.

    I also particularly enjoyed Amal El-Mohtar's newsletter this week, not least because the ritual she describes (Friday evening walks, take-away, and WandaVision) closely resembles my own Saturday evening pandemic ritual (take-away, and films), and because she is so overwhelmed with love for WandaVision, like me.

    Edited to add the link to the first trailer for the Grishaverse Netflix show! In terms of the original books I only really love the Six of Crows duology (the ending of the original trilogy makes me incredibly angry, and the new series mainly focuses on characters in whom I'm not hugely interested), but the trailer is reminding me of all my intense Darklina feelings (because of course I've never met a heroine/villain ship I didn't like), and I'm very much looking forward to the series!



    I hope your Saturdays have been filled with light, both physical and metaphorical.
    dolorosa_12: (le guin)
    I'll return to people's suggested prompts in future Friday open threads, but for now I've got a prompt of my own. This one's pretty straightforward: what is something you've read recently online that made you think, that resonated with you, or that taught you something interesting.

    A couple of requests: please, nothing to do with the ongoing US election shitshow (I've driven myself into a frenzy of sleepless panic worrying about the situation in specific states, and I really need to focus on something else), and if possible I would prefer whatever you share here to be written text rather than podcasts or videos. If you prefer to share videos/podcasts, that's fine, but be aware that it's extremely unlikely I'll watch/listen to them — I find them an extremely inefficient way to absorb information and if there's not a written transcript, I generally avoid them as a medium.

    My answer behind the cut )

    I found it very persuasive.
    dolorosa_12: (mucha music)
    Welcome back to another one of my crowd-sourced Friday open threads. This one is a prompt from [personal profile] dhampyresa, and is close to my music-loving heart.

    The prompt is: what's your favourite song and/or the one that most speaks to or inspires you?

    My answer behind the cut )

    I'm looking forward to hearing some excellent music as a result of everyone's replies here!

    dolorosa_12: (autumn tea)
    I've found that these briefer posts with three links seem to work better than longer links roundups, so I think they're going to become a semi-permanent fixture here.

    First up, a link to the online exhibition put together by my former PhD supervisor (and others), A History of Ireland in 10 Words. This exhibition is a synthesis of work that they did initially on the academic Dictionary of the Irish Language, that they then adapted for a nonspecialist audience into a book, A History of Ireland in 100 Words, and then adapted into the exhibition. Apparently there were beautiful banners up all over central Dublin as well. The exhibition was meant to be in a physical space ... and then lockdown happened.

    I found this article in The Guardian, in which newspaper reviewers and critics revise their former reviews (of music, films, books, etc), to be really interesting and thoughtful. I cannot believe the music critic who originally hated Daft Punk's Discovery album, though!

    Finally, enjoy this video of Australian magpies singing together.
    dolorosa_12: (man ray)
    This is a post about COVID — in terms of the state of the world in general, rather than concrete specifics. I'll still cut, in case you want to avoid this sort of thing.

    Keep the streets empty for me )
    dolorosa_12: (keating!)
    This has been a weird week.

    I discovered, after the fact, that Boris Johnson had come to my workplace (or at least one of the departments in the hospital site on which my library is located) for a campaign visit. The press weren't told, most people working in the hospital weren't told, and the people who were there as props to this particular campaign stunt were told they weren't allowed to talk to him. However, the amazing [twitter.com profile] SJimons, a medical student at Cambridge, delivered a spectacular, spontaneous rant immediately afterwards, all the more impressive because she managed to say everything necessary with clarity, concision, and righteous anger. You can watch her here. I recognise her from around the library, but have never spoken to her beyond issuing or returning books — next time she's in I must applaud her!

    I have to wonder why Johnson was in Cambridge at all. This constituency is a two-horse race between Labour and the Lib Dems, and has been since the late 1980s. Furthermore, it had pretty much the highest Remain vote in the entire country. Unless he was hoping to be booed out of the site by a chorus of angry patients, I'm not sure what he was trying to achieve.

    *


    Yesterday Matthias and I braved the rain and went out to the cinema to watch Official Secrets, which made me a) furious all over again with Tony Blair, and b) have a panic attack in the cinema because one of the characters was threatened with deportation. #migrantlife, I suppose. The film featured just about every British actor ever, and was a competently told political/investigative journalism drama, and I'm glad I saw it, although I hadn't expected to be hyperventilating in a darkened cinema on a Saturday afternoon due to a panic attack!

    *


    I've spent most of today doing calming things: yoga for an hour, gentle amounts of cleaning and decluttering (if anyone in the Cambridge area wants two used desk lamps, get in touch!), and reading Any Old Diamonds by KJ Charles (lovely and cheerful, although not my favourite of her books) while drinking tea. I've achieved some sort of equilibrium, I suppose.

    *


    I know there are at least a couple of fellow Australian migrants subscribed to my Dreamwidth, so the following may be relevant to your interests: ABC iView is now available overseas, provided you download the appropriate app. More details here. I've always appreciated that the ABC removed the region lock on its news streaming channels during elections and similar big political events, but it's nice that we'll have access to this coverage all year round now. I can combine my stress about UK politics with more stress about Australian politics! It's worth noting that although the press release I've linked talks mostly about access to the news and current affairs content, it appears international viewers will have access to all ABC content on iView, including sport, comedy, drama, documentaries, children's programming, and other entertainment.

    *


    I finalised my Yuletide signup yesterday; anyone who hasn't yet signed up has a few hours yet. Details can be found at the [community profile] yuletide_admin comm.

    *


    I've noticed a couple of new people subscribed to my journal recently — feel free to say hello in the comments if you want to introduce yourselves!
    dolorosa_12: (the humans are dead)
    Thirty Day Book Meme Day 23: Made to read at school

    I have always hated this framing, as if being required to read books for class was somehow way more unreasonable than being required to, for example, learn quadratic equations for maths class, or learn organic chemistry for science. Sure, some parts of compulsory education were boring, or poorly taught — including some of my English classes — but that didn't mean they were a grave injustice.

    That little rant aside, I'm going to talk about The Beast of Heaven by Victor Kelleher for this day of the meme. We read this in Year 8 advanced English class (so when I was thirteen), and it was one of my favourite and most formative things read for school. Kelleher is mostly known as a YA author (one of his YA dystopian novels, Taronga, was commonly taught in secondary school in the '90s when I was a school student, and indeed we studied it as well), but The Beast of Heaven is dystopian fiction aimed at an adult readership. It is at once incredibly '80s, and incredibly Australian — a pair of sentient computers wake up, and continue an argument they've been programmed to have, about whether humanity deserves to continue to exist, with one computer programmed to argue in favour of humanity's ongoing survival and the other that it would be the best thing for all concerned if the massive nuclear weapons it controls would be set off and wipe humanity off the map. Against the backdrop of this argument is a group of what we think are the last human survivors on Earth, eking out an impoverished existence in a blasted, post-apocalypic desert landscape. The twist, if you've read a lot of dystopian SF, is probably fairly obvious, although it absolutely blew my thirteen-year-old mind, and the book as a whole made me think in a more structured way about Australian dystopian literature as a subgenre distinct from its literary cousins in other countries. It wasn't the first book by Kelleher that I read, but it was the one that really made me sit up and take notice of him as an author, and I think his body of work is incredible. I've always felt a sense of regret that he's not really known outside of Australia.

    The other days )
    dolorosa_12: (matilda)
    I came across this book meme a while ago, and had been waiting until I had a clear month or so to complete it. It looks like it will be a lot of fun, so feel free to steal it and do the meme yourself if you'd like.

    Day one is a tough one: favourite book from childhood.

    Now, depending on how old I was when you asked me this question, the answer would change quite a bit. I am a fairly loyal reader, and even in childhood I tended to have long stretches of time where a particular book was my favourite — and these can roughly be set out as follows:

    Books behind the cut )

    As I said before, I can talk about favourite childhood books forever, and would love to hear about yours, or discuss any of my favourites, in the comments.

    The other days )
    dolorosa_12: (emily hanna)
    This week has been absolutely excellent for people saying brilliant, eloquent, important things.

    To journey is to be human. To migrate is to be human. Human migration forged the world. Human migration will forge the future, writes Ishtiyak Shukri in 'Losing London'. This was the post of the week for me, and affected me deeply.

    We already have the table of contents, but now we have the cover of Athena Andreadis's To Shape The Dark anthology, illustrated beautifully by Eleni Tsami.

    I really loved this interview of Aliette de Bodard by Rochita Loenen-Ruiz: I’ve come to realize that “appealing to everybody” is a codeword for bland, unobjectionable stuff; or at the very least for something that doesn’t challenge the reader; and, just as I like to be challenged when I read, I would in turn like to do that to my readers!

    Speaking of Aliette de Bodard's writing, she's put 'In Morningstar's Shadow', the prequel short story to The House of Shattered Wings, up online for free. I read it last weekend and loved it.

    I liked this essay by Marianne de Pierres on Australian myths in contemporary SF, but I've been worrying away at some of its conclusions for reasons I can't quite articulate. Certainly I appreciate the recognition of Australian writing's emphasis on the dystopian and post-apocalyptic, but I worry about her characterisation of the Australian landscape as universally barren, inhospitable and predatory. Let's just say it is not so to all inhabitants of Australia, and is not represented as such in the stories of all Australians, although it is a really significant theme in Australian literature.

    Sophie Masson wrote on authors in a changing publishing landscape. I smiled a little ruefully at this quote:

    When my last adult novel, Forest of Dreams, came out in 2001, I was commissioned to write a piece for a newspaper on the historical background of the novel (a paid piece), and reviews of the book appeared in several print publications, despite its being genre fiction. When The Koldun Code, also genre fiction, came out in 2014, I had to write several guest posts for blogs, do interviews for online publications (all unpaid) and reviews only appeared online.

    I did not review this book, but I did interview Masson and review several of her YA works for print publications, where I was paid for my work. Now I retweet links to her articles and review things exclusively online for free. Oh, how times have changed!

    Authors who are parents have been posting about the experience. There are too many posts to include here, but you can find links to all of them at the #ParentingCreating hashtag.

    The latest of Kari Sperring's 'Matrilines' columns, on Evangeline Walton, is up. I've been finding these columns both illuminating - in terms of introducing me to many authors whose work sounds right up my alley - and disheartening, in that almost all of them were entirely new to me, instead of well-known figures in the SF canon.

    I found this post by Samantha Shannon on judging a literary award to be a very interesting read.

    In a departure from these posts' usual content, I have a music recommendation: CHVRCHES' new album Every Open Eye. It stops my heart, in the best possible way.
    dolorosa_12: (epic internet)
    So. Lots of stuff to get through this week, as my corner of the internet has been particularly full of people doing wonderful, clever and awesome things.

    Rochita Loenen-Ruiz had a busy week. Here's Rochita on the uses of anger, her new short story, and being interviewed for Lightspeed magazine's author spotlight.

    Catherine Lundoff has had so many submissions to her 'Older Women in SFF' recommendations post that she's had to split it into two. Part one, part two.

    I really liked this review of Zen Cho's writing by Naomi Novik.

    This review by Sarah Mesle of the most recent episode of Game of Thrones made a lot of points I've been struggling to articulate. Content note for discussion of violence, abuse and rape.

    I really appreciated this thoughtful post by Tade Thompson on safety, community and dissent.

    Natalie Luhrs makes some really important points here:

    This is part of the ongoing conversation about the importance of different voices in our community. About making space for people who have been told–explicitly and implicitly–that what they have to say isn’t worthwhile and that they need to sit down and listen and that someday, maybe, they’ll be allowed to speak.

    This list of Best Young Australian novelists looks great, and reflects the Australia that I grew up in. Congratulations to all the winners!

    I have to admit that the #hometovote hashtag has been making me cry.

    I wrote two longish posts this week. One is over at Wordpress: a review of Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel. The other is here at Dreamwidth/LJ, and is a primer to Sophia McDougall's Romanitas trilogy.

    My mother is a radio journalist. Her programme this week is on Eurovision, and you can listen to it here (not geoblocked). There are additional features . I am an unashamed Eurovision fan, and as you can see, it runs in the family.

    Texts from Hieronymous Bosch made me laugh and laugh.

    Happy Friday, everyone.
    dolorosa_12: (epic internet)
    Ambelin Kwaymullina talks about diversity in Australian YA literature.

    Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: 'Fear of causing offense becomes a fetish'.

    Here's Daniel José Older on diversity, power and publishing.

    Laura Mixon talks about building bridges and healing divisions.

    Rochita Loenen-Ruiz talks about self-care and 'staying in touch with the child-self'.

    Aidan Moher discusses writing military SF without combat.

    Astrid Lindgren's Second World War diaries have been published in Sweden.

    Ana of Things Mean A Lot reviews Pride in the light of the recent UK elections.

    I love this review by Electra Pritchett of Stranger and Hostage by Rachel Manija Brown and Sherwood Smith:

    If I had to pick a post-apocalyptic YA society in which to live, I'd pick the community of Las Anclas hands down, warts and all: rather than a hierarchical dystopian society where something random is outlawed and the government controls something else crucial to society, Las Anclas represents a kinder, gentler post-apocalypse. It's not quite a utopia, except in the sense that everywhere in fiction is, but that's precisely what makes it a believable and desirable place to live: its busybodies and jerks are notable because they're not the only kind of people in the town, and dealing with them would be a small price to pay in order to live in such a supportive and inclusive place.

    The upcoming publishing schedule at The Book Smugglers makes me so happy.

    I am really looking forward to the publication of Tell The Wind And Fire, Sarah Rees Brennan's latest book.

    Via Sherwood Smith, listen to the oldest (recorded) song in the world.

    Happy Friday, everyone!

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